"Consider it done, my primary funder," Thorne said, his eyes gleaming with the shared malice of the corporate underworld.
The digital connection severed, leaving a pristine silence inside the dressing chambers of the Sovereign Estate. Gerald stood perfectly still before the floor to ceiling mirror, his synthetic hands smoothing the lapels of his midnight blue evening coat.
"You look like a man preparing for an execution rather than a charity gala," Laura said, stepping into the room.
She wore a gown of liquid silver that mirrored the cascading neon lights of the Aether-Spire Grand Plaza outside. Her voice carried a sharp edge, yet her eyes remained fixed on his reflection with a deep, unsettling curiosity.
"A high-society presentation is merely a bloodless execution of one's rivals," G
